Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Fiji and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Selecter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Little Man,
Harpers Bizarre,
KRS-One,
Erasure,
Lalann,
The United States of America,
Althea and Donna,
Eve St. Jones,
Newcleus,
Sarah Menescal,
Rites of Spring,
Sun Ra,
Hot Snakes,
Carl Craig,
Mars,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New Order,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Darondo,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Sneak,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Hood,
Nico,
Nation of Ulysses,
F. McDonald,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mark Hollis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Busters,
Groovy Waters,
the Normal,
Gichy Dan,
Fad Gadget,
Maurizio,
Danielle Patucci,
The Walker Brothers,
The Leaves,
The Gories,
Bad Manners,
Bauhaus,
Reagan Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
K-Klass,
Ice-T,
Arab on Radar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Second Layer,
The Litter,
Flipper,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hardrive,
Juan Atkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.